


THIS IS A GOOD KISS SPOT

by vanillabeanniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: !!!!!!, ACE ZAYN, And in love, High School AU, M/M, and cute, aro niall, but theyre young, except theyre never in the school, idk why this took so long, larrys real bye, nonsmut, oh and also no smut, theyre in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 14:18:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6473725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillabeanniall/pseuds/vanillabeanniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were definitely having another moment. Maybe Harry should kiss him. He was suddenly aware of his heart beating in his chest.</p><p>Before he could even lean in, Louis stepped away.</p><p>“Look,” he said, half laughing, “The sign.”</p><p>Harry looked down, and on the metal railing that had so rudely burned his hand, was a black sign sticking to the curved surface. “THIS IS A GOOD KISS SPOT.” it declared in solid, white letters.</p><p> </p><p>Or, the one where Harry and Louis are already dating, but the only one who realizes is Niall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	THIS IS A GOOD KISS SPOT

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to ella bc shes the real mvp i lov u
> 
> anyway lets go...

People say it’s hard to be in unrequited love. Especially if the person you love doesn’t seem to love you back. Especially if said person calls you his “best mate” all the time.  _ Especially _ when said person is perfect and funny and gorgeous and sweet and tactile and very not in love with you. And people probably don’t get as specific as that, but if they did, they’d be fucking right. It’s a massive pain in the ass to be unrequitedly in love with your best friend in the whole universe. And not a pain in the ass the way Harry would prefer. But he wouldn’t trade it for the world, honestly. And not just because Louis was his world, and every other world, and all the stars and galaxies, although that was certainly a contributing factor.

 

The squad didn’t make being in love with his best friend much easier. The five boys were as close as could be, having met in nursery school and got on from the word ‘go.’ Which also meant that each one thought they knew best for their friend. They tried to help, in their own ways, like when Zayn would scoot over so Harry was pushed right up into Louis’ space (not that Louis even seemed to notice), or when Liam would make excuses to leave Harry and Louis alone together, or when Niall would text Harry flirting tips on the down low. Or when Niall yelled at ‘Larry,’ as he had named them, to go get a room while throwing food at them. Then exaggeratedly wink. Niall was such an ass. He was also Harry’s second closest friend.

 

But as much grief the squad caused Harry over this, he made everything worse for himself. Or better. Love was complicated and shitty, and it didn’t change the fact that Harry would die for Louis. Coincidentally, bleeding out from a bullet wound in defense of Louis’ life was the only way Harry would ever outright tell him how he felt.

 

But that never stopped Niall from teasing him about it.

 

“So,” the blonde started from Harry’s couch as Harry pulled on his boots, “are you gonna tell him on tonight’s date?”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “How do you know I’m even going anywhere tonight?”

 

“It’s Saturday night. You and Louis always go out for dinner before everyone meets at Liam’s for movies.”

 

“It’s not a date,” Harry protested.

 

“You dress up nice, take him out for dinner, pay for it yourself, and probably go on romantic strolls around the city afterwards,” Niall ticked off on his fingers. “I’m pretty sure that’s a date, my guy.”

 

“I can’t believe I’m being disrespected like this in the safety of my own home!” Harry exclaimed.

 

“Shut up and go get your man, ya wanker,” Niall threw a pillow at Harry.

 

Harry hurried to the door before pausing and looking back. “Are you just gonna hang out on my couch?”

 

Niall shrugged.

 

“I know you have a house,” Harry started. “I’ve been there. Why are you even on my couch right now?”

 

Niall shrugged again.

 

“Alright,” Harry said. “Lock the door behind me, please.”

 

~~~

 

It wasn’t a date. It totally wasn’t. This was the third Saturday in a row that Harry had taken Louis out, but it was not a date. (Harry wanted it to be.)

 

As Harry’s car pulled up to Louis’ house, he resolutely prepared himself for a night of 

platonic not-dating. Just dinner then a superhero movie with the squad. He looked out the window, and wasn’t mentally prepared to see Louis bounding down his sidewalk, jeans stretching deliciously across his thighs, wearing the shirt that showed off his collarbones in a way that Harry just wasn’t equipped to handle, and with his hair in a perfect soft fringe. Harry was probably staring, but who doesn’t look at the stars shining in the sky when they have the chance?

 

Louis pulled the door open, smiling the crinkly-eyed smile that Harry couldn’t resist, and greeted him.

 

“Where to tonight, Hazza?”

 

Harry’s smile widened further at the nickname. He was a weak person. “Where do you wanna go?”

 

Louis cocked his head and looked at Harry. He reached over and tugged lightly on a curl. “Are we even gonna be able to drive anywhere with these curls in your eyes? A driver does have to see, Harold.”

 

Harry giggled and pulled a hair tie off his wrist, pulling his hair back into a bun. “Better?” he asked.

 

Louis was slow to reply, mouth gone a little slack, with his tongue just slightly resting on his pink lower lip. “What? Oh, yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

 

Harry started the car and began the short drive to the small but still bustling city. The radio softly played his alternative indie music, and Louis hummed along quietly, which was a problem for Harry because it’s unsafe driving to tuck your fond smile into your shoulder when piloting a car.

 

“So,” Harry started again after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “Where are we going?” He looked over at Louis to find him already watching Harry.

 

“There’s that new Italian place,” Louis suggested. “Mum was saying they were supposed to be good.”

 

“Alright,” said Harry, “We’re having Italian.”

 

Louis hummed his assent and the two smiled at each other for a second.

 

“Hey,” snapped Louis, “eyes on the road, Styles. I’m not dying in a car accident before I get my pasta.”

 

Harry laughed loudly at that, but he faced forward anyway.

 

~~~

 

They didn’t die in a car accident before they made it to the restaurant, but Harry was lowkey starting to wish that they had.

 

It’s just- the way Louis was sucking on the straw of his soda was more of a turn-on than it maybe should’ve been. And, like, spaghetti and meatballs is not a seductive dish, but somehow, the way Louis was going about it made it seem straight-up (gay-up)  _ sinful _ . This was not the original purpose of Italian food probably.

 

And the waiter had assumed they were a couple -- of course he had, they were two young guys going out alone to get  _ Italian food _ , and he’d probably seen Lady and the Tramp before. Harry had blushed, opening his mouth to correct his mistake, but Louis had grabbed up his hand and smiled soppily at the waiter before Harry had the chance.

 

“It’s out one-year anniversary,” Louis had said happily and convincingly. Convincingly enough that Harry had believed it for a second -- before he’d remembered that, in fact, his ridiculous crush was painfully one-sided, the realization crashing onto him like a bucket of ice water.

 

The waiter had smiled and gushed a bit about  _ what a cute couple you two are, I hope you enjoy your dinner, I think I’ll even send you a free dessert because you two are just  _ so  _ cute together, did I mention that already? _ before he had left to get their food.

 

“Why’d you do that?” Harry had asked Louis, cheeks still burning pink.

 

Louis had shrugged. “Free desert. And besides,” he smirked, “we can’t let the straights win, Harold.”

 

The answer hadn’t totally made sense, but it didn’t stop Harry from staring at Louis’ thin, quick lips, wanting to kiss the smirk right off of them and more, until they were bright pink and spit-shiny, and Louis was too dazed to make another quip for at least ten minutes. Harry bit his own lip to resist the delicious temptation.

 

Harry couldn’t wait to get back to Liam’s. At least he didn’t have to deal with the visual temptation of Louis when the lights were off and Zayn was forcing them to watch Batman. Again.

 

The meal passed pleasantly, because Harry would love any situation in which he was with Louis, and soon enough he was covering the bill and they were pulling their jackets tighter against the cold wind as they strolled down the sidewalk. 

 

It was chilly in spite of it being June, but this was England, after all, and it couldn’t help being cold. The sun was setting and it washed the world in a purple haze, painting the clouds in bright colors, with the stars beginning to shine in the sky. It was beautiful out, and Harry could honestly say he was content to just be here, walking with Louis, listening to him talk, feeling his warmth sway into Harry’s body, seeing the yellow streetlamps reflect in his eyes and soften his features, and Harry was content just admiring what Louis was like. He was content to be in love.

 

They walked aimlessly, and ended up on a nice wooden bridge with a good view of the city and the open sea. It was deserted except for them, due to the cold and the approaching night, but it was still a nice place to be. The crisp air filled his lungs as Harry walked, making him feel more solid than before, somehow, and he felt the comfortable heat of Louis’ hand on the small of his back spread all along his spine. He looked down at Louis, who was talking animatedly about something Harry was too busy fonding to really hear, and promptly tripped on an uneven board.

 

He landed hard on the cold wood, and winced as the chill seeped through his jeans. But as cheesy as it was, when he looked up and saw the concerned blue of Louis’ eyes and was pulled up by Louis’ hands, he stopped feeling the bruise that was surely forming on his bum.

 

Harry giggled. “Oops?”

 

Louis smiled fondly at him. “Hi,” he whispered.

 

The air around them slowed, and Harry and Louis just stood there, staring into each other’s eyes like they were the protagonists in some sort of love story. Harry could feel Louis’ breath on his face as they stood too close to pass as platonic, and shifted just slightly forward, placing a hand on the bridge’s railing.

 

The bridge’s railing which turned out to be a very cold metal bar. Harry jumped back in surprise, grabbing his hand.

 

“Shit,” he hissed, “that’s like ice!”

 

“You’re such a baby,” Louis laughed, the close moment having passed.

 

Harry pouted exaggeratedly at him, still cradling his hand to be dramatic, even though it didn’t necessarily need it.

 

Louis stepped close, but not like before, and grabbed his hands. “Need me to warm them up?”

 

Harry giggled, eyes flicking around Louis’ face to memorize this moment, and Louis apparently took that as a yes. He lifted Harry’s bigger hands to his mouth, lightly pressing his thin lips to them before blowing on them.

 

Harry laughed again, and Louis looked up at him through long lashes, smiling.

 

Louis moved their hands away from his face and studied them, the way his dainty little hands provided almost no coverage for Harry’s big hands. Harry laughed quietly at it, and Louis glared playfully at him.

 

“You have giant Bigfoot hands.” Louis said.

 

“Heyyyy,” Harry pouted. “My hands aren’t that big.”

 

Louis laughed, loud and tinkling. Harry grinned harder at that, proud that he’d made it happen. He kinda wanted to make Louis laugh for the rest of his life. Which was insane, considering he was only seventeen and already having thoughts of forever.

 

Louis smiled widely back at him, sharp canine teeth poking out with the force of it.

 

They were definitely having another moment. Maybe Harry should kiss him. He was suddenly aware of his heart beating in his chest.

 

Before he could even lean in, Louis stepped away.

 

“Look,” he said, half laughing, “The sign.”

 

Harry looked down, and on the metal railing that had so rudely burned his hand, was a black sign sticking to the curved surface. “THIS IS A GOOD KISS SPOT.” it declared in solid, white letters.

 

Harry cursed himself in his head. That would’ve been so great if he’d actually kissed Louis. Why did he chicken out? Again? Harry bit his lip.

 

Louis grinned at Harry over his shoulder. “I’ll have to remember this spot.”

 

The smile disappeared off of Harry’s face. Right. Because Louis was nineteen, about to go on his gap year and meet all sorts of new people, and he wasn’t dating Harry. Louis was probably going to find some other boy and take him here and kiss him and then they’d get married and have twelve babies like Harry wanted and there was nothing he could do about it because Harry had no real claim on Louis.

 

“Hey,” Louis cut into his thoughts, “You okay?”

 

Harry looked down at his scuffed brown boots. “Yeah, yeah, ‘m good. Let’s just- let’s go to Liam’s for the movie, yeah?” He glanced up once again to see Louis’ concerned blue eyes, much closer than they had been.

 

“Yeah,” Louis said quietly, weirdly disappointed. “Yeah, let’s go, then.”

 

~~~

 

It was a quiet walk to the car, and a quiet but pleasant ride to Liam’s, the only sounds being the soft indie music and the hum of the engine.

 

They walked into the living room of Liam’s house soon after to find Liam, Zayn, and Niall (with a giant bowl of popcorn on his lap) all sitting around, waiting for them to start the movie. Niall was the first one to see them and he absolutely lit up. (The boy is basically the sun, he really just can’t help it.)

 

“How was the not-date?”

 

Harry shot him a glare. “Dinner was fine.”

 

Louis laughed. “Young Harold here narrowly escaped death.”

 

“What?” worried Liam. “Harry, are you alright?”

 

Harry muttered something about bruising like a peach and Zayn laughed, patting Liam’s knee. “He’s fine, Li, don’t worry. I’m sure Louis kissed it better.” He smirked wickedly at the pair of them. Niall cackled, throwing more popcorn in his mouth.

 

“Ew, Ni,” Liam said, scrunching his nose. Niall laughed in his face and at the same time, Zayn’s phone went off.

 

“Who’s that, Z?” Louis asked nudging him with his foot. “Booty call?”

 

“You know I’m too ace for that,” Zayn said smoothly. “It was just Eleanor. She and Sophia are just about to leave for their date.”

 

“Tonight?” Niall asked. He turned towards Harry and Louis, still standing at the edge of the rug. “They’re copying you!”

 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Tell them the new Italian place is good,” he said to Zayn.

 

“So you two had Italian,” Niall said, wagging his eyebrows, “How romantic.”

 

Harry and Louis turned twin glares at him.

 

Niall laughed loudly. “Hey, ‘m just saying, two boys, one table, probably a shared plate of spaghetti-”

 

Harry dropped on top of him in retaliation, effectively stopping Niall’s sentence and making the boy laugh even more uncontrollably.

 

“Get off him before the poor boy suffocates,” Louis said, laughing a little himself. “Look at him, all red in the face!”

 

“‘S not my fault he’s a naturally pink person,” Harry mumbled, but he still rolled off to sit next to Niall instead of on top of him. Louis slid in next to Harry, sprawling almost across his lap despite the several empty feet of couch next to him.

 

“You two are gross,” Niall said, scrunching his nose.

 

Zayn shushed him and turned the lights off. “The movie’s starting,” he whispered.

 

They all stilled as the Batman opening scene flashed across the screen.

 

Harry smiled as he felt Louis absentmindedly tapping on Harry’s knee. Harry leaned his head on top of Louis’ and settled in to watch the movie under Louis’ warmth.

 

(Niall and Zayn shared a knowing look at the end of the movie, when they found Harry and Louis asleep and tangled together happily.)

 

~~~

 

The thing about the not-dates they had every week, Harry thought as he got ready for this week’s dinner, was that they just weren’t communicating what they were intended for.

 

Niall had come up with the concept a month and a half ago as a way to subtly tell Louis how Harry felt. There was just no way Louis hadn’t picked up on it, because they were now five weeks in and nothing noteworthy had happened. Other than Harry being viciously rejected, if Louis knew. Because when Harry had originally asked, Louis had been like “Yeah, mate! That sounds really fun, let’s go, PAL!” And that’s just really really not something you’d say to someone you’re secretly in love with. So Harry was frustrated and honestly didn’t know what to do.

 

Niall’s idea had actually been really good, as it was obvious enough to read the signs, but left enough space that if Harry’s love was truly as unrequited as he thought, Louis could just leave it alone and nothing would happen. Because as much as Harry loved Louis and wanted to kiss him and hold him and have twelve children with him, it was more important to hold on to what they had, because having Louis in any way was better than losing him because Harry couldn’t control his feelings. Louis wasn’t just the boy Harry loved, he was also his best friend, and that friendship was just not something Harry was willing to risk.

 

Which is the excuse that always showed up in the cheesy romance movies he loved, and he always said the protagonists should just  _ go for it already, you two are so obviously in love! _ but this wasn’t a cheesy romance movie, this was real life and in real life, happy endings were rare and hard and finding your soulmate didn’t matter if he didn’t love you back.

 

This was why Harry always had Niall with him when he got ready to pick up Louis. Niall knew exactly what to do to brighten someone's mood and keep them out of the bottomless pit of sadness that is unrequited love.

 

Harry finished pulling his boots and jacket on and grabbed his keys. It was only Wednesday, but he’d made the executive decision that he needed to be around Louis more often effective immediately. Louis was leaving for uni soon, probably, even if he was staying home an extra year because his mum and sisters needed the help, and Harry knew he’d lose Louis to some smart, pretty, rich boy who Louis totally deserved because Louis was kind, and funny, and perfect and had good enough taste to find a smart, pretty, rich boy and get married and have twelve kids with said smart, pretty, rich boy and probably the only time Harry would ever see Louis again was on the Christmas cards he sent him. Which was probably a worst case scenario, but anything could happen.

 

Harry started the car for the short drive to Louis’ house, but paused before moving. He laid his head on the wheel, just contemplating what could even happen if he told Louis he loved him.

 

It obviously wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed his mind; everyone who’s in love wants to tell the other person, but Harry just felt like he had too much to risk. Besides, he sort of wanted Louis to be the one to come on to him. It wasn’t from a desire to be more feminine in society’s eyes, which isn’t to imply that girls can’t come on to other people. Harry always made sure he was being fair to everyone in a situation, even if it was just in his head. But who doesn’t want to feel like a princess whose prince had just come and asked them to ride away into the sunset with them?

 

Harry was determined to get his princess moment.

 

He sat up and started the car, flipping the fantasy of telling Louis around in his mind while knowing he wasn’t going to.

 

Harry twisted the volume knob on the radio as he waited outside Louis’ house. He sang along to the music, not even noticing Louis until he opened the car door and sat down.

 

“Marina and the Diamonds?” Louis asked, eyebrows raised.

 

Harry grinned and nodded, still singing along.

 

“Cute,” Louis laughed.

 

Harry turned down the radio. “Hey,” he said, “is that the rose gold eyeshadow?”

 

Louis blushed and looked down at his hands twisting in his lap. “Yeah.”

 

Harry smiled softly, lifting Louis’ chin gently. “Hey,” he whispered. “I really like it, Lou.”

 

Louis looked up at him and smiled.

 

Harry smiled back at him for a moment and let them have a moment before they drove off to the same Italian restaurant as last week.

 

~~~

 

The night went smoothly, almost exactly the same as it had been a few nights ago. After they finished their food (different meals than before, but it didn’t really matter what Harry had ordered because he stole just as much from Louis’ plate as he ate from his own), they walked out into the evening again, pulling on their jackets, and Harry once again battled the urge to grab Louis’ hand or to tuck the smaller boy under his arm and keep him there forever. They walked again, down streets they’d been down before, but neither seemed to want to revisit what Harry had taken to calling ‘the kissing bridge’ in his head. 

 

They ended up at a park. The grass was green still, despite the lowering of the sun, and the streetlamps had just begun to glow along the path. The two walked companionably for a while, enjoying the night and the proximity. They talked quietly, laughing occasionally, and Harry watched the lines of Louis’ face glow and fall into shadow as they passed lamps.

 

They got back into Harry’s little red car eventually, smiling from the lovely memories. Harry turned the radio on quietly, and soft music spilled from the speakers. Harry hummed along as Louis laughed and sometimes whispered snarky comments. The familiarity of the scene tugged at Harry’s heart. He’d do this forever.

 

As the car rolled to a slow stop in front of Louis’ house, he  unbuckled his seatbelt, but instead of opening the door and calling his usual goodnight, he turned to face Harry.

 

“What if…” he started hesitantly. Harry’s brow furrowed. “What if I took you out on Saturday?”

 

Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

 

“Because you pay every time we hang out in the city,” Louis hurried to continue. “And I’d like to plan something for you, for once.”

 

Harry smiled fondly at the other boy. “Alright,” he agreed easily.

 

Louis smiled in relief. “Good,” he said softly.

 

The two smiled at each other for a long moment, just quietly sitting and staring. It would’ve been a good moment for a sweet kiss.

 

But then Louis turned and opened the car door, climbing out. He swung the door almost shut, but paused right before it closed.

 

“Um,” he bent and stuck his head through the opening, “Dress nice for Saturday.”

 

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Gonna proper wine and dine me, Tomlinson?”

 

Louis laughed, but a light blush rose to his cheeks. “You wish. See you soon, Styles.”

 

And he withdrew from the car, closing the door behind him and waving as he stood on the curb. Harry slowly pulled the car away and drove away, not seeing in his rearview mirror the way Louis stayed standing there, watching with a soft and somewhat longing look on his face for as long as he was visible.

 

~~~

 

“Christ, does it even matter what you wear? He’d think you looked amazing if you showed up in a fucking trash bag.”

 

Niall was “helping” Harry get ready for his not-date with Louis. Was it a date this time? Louis had said he wanted to take Harry to dinner. And he’d said to dress nice. Does that make it a date?

 

Niall must have read something off of Harry’s face just then because he huffed loudly and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “Aw, c’mon, mate, calm down. The date-” he hurriedly changed direction at Harry’s widening eyes “-intimate get-together, that is, isn’t even until tomorrow.”

 

Harry groaned and flopped down onto the layer of clothes covering his bed. “Niall,” he whined, “I have just over twenty-four hours to be ready for what could possibly be the most important night of my young life.”

 

Niall laughed from somewhere above him and Harry blindly swatted at the Irish boy, smiling at the satisfying  _ thump _ sound when he finally made contact.

 

“So dramatic,” Niall intoned, and Harry just knew that he was shaking his head. “I swear, H, you and Tommo are perfect together.”

 

Harry groaned again into the floral shirt under his face.

 

“Right, sorry,” Niall said, “What I mean by that, of course, is that… well, you know what, nevermind. Let’s just watch one of those stupid rom-coms you love.”

 

“You like them more than I do, Horan,” Harry said, rising from the mess and turning to look at Niall, resolutely ignoring the long curls sticking to his face.

 

The other boy shrugged, reaching into a bag of chips Harry would swear he just conjured from thin air. Niall hummed in assent. “They’re fucking quality movies, Mister Styles.”

 

Harry shrugged back at him. “Which one are we watching, then?”

 

Niall shrugged, mimicking him. “You pick, you’re the one who needs the inspiration.”

 

Harry threw a shirt at Niall, who shouted in indignation and threw it across the room.

 

“Oh, now you’ve got grease stains all over my nice shirt,” Harry mock-pouted.

 

Niall grinned. “You’ve got too many sheer floral shirts anyway, H. What are you even trying to accomplish with those? Sexy American tourist dad?”

 

Harry rolled his eyes as he went to pick up and carefully hang up his shirt.

 

“And with those boots, too,” Niall went on, “As if you’re not tall enough already.”

 

“Excuse you!” Harry said, crossing his arms. “It’s not my fault you’re a midget, Niall.”

 

Niall cackled at that. “A leprechaun, you mean.”

 

Harry laughed, too, and sat next to Niall on his bed. The other boy immediately slung an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “Your clothes look nice, Hazza,” he said conspiratorially.

 

Harry nuzzled into his friend. “Thanks, Nialler. I’m just glad I don’t look like you.”

 

Niall yelled at this horrifying breach of his dignity and started tickling Harry, who started yelling and trying to wriggle away, and soon enough Gemma was walking into Harry’s room and yelling.

 

“What the fuck are you two doing?” She said from the doorway.

 

Niall finally stopped tickling Harry, and his laughter subsided into giggles.

 

“I’m helping him get ready for his not-date with Louis tomorrow,” Niall said brightly.

 

“Why does he need help?” Gemma asked. “Those two go on dates every weekend.”

 

Harry pouted at her from where he was now lying on the floor. “No we don’t.”

 

“But you’d like to be,” Niall cut in.

 

Harry stuck his tongue out at Niall.

 

“Harry, you’re not supposed to have an emotional breakdown about what you’re wearing until at most five hours before he comes to pick you up,” Gemma said. “It’s the basic rules of dating.”

 

Niall turned back to Harry. “Why do you come to  _ me _ for help when this romantic guru is living just down the hall?”

 

Harry shrugged.

 

Niall rolled his eyes at him. “Why do you even ask me anything about this at all? I’m, like, the least qualified person you know for this.”

 

Harry rolled onto his stomach and glared at Gemma, who was still standing in the doorway. “You broke my helper,” he whined.

 

“Oh, just get up and quiet down,” she said, closing the door as she left.

 

Niall laughed as Harry turned to glare at him. “Seriously, though,” he said, “why do you come to me every time?”

 

Harry shrugged. “Just because you’re aromantic doesn’t mean you’re totally useless,” he said.

 

Niall laughed, god knows why.

 

“You’re only totally useless because of your personality,” Harry said louder, which only caused Niall’s laughter to grow.

 

~~~

 

There was just under an hour until Louis came to pick Harry up for their not-date. Maybe-date. Not-date.

  
Harry knew because he’d been counting down hours for about sixty five of them now.

 

Niall was, for some reason, back in his room and helping him get ready. The conversation was very similar to yesterday’s.

 

“Harry,” Niall was saying from where he was sprawled out on the floor, this time with a bowl of cereal in front of him and waving a spoon around to accentuate his point, “All of your clothes look nice.”

 

Harry stood still, staring at the ceiling and counting down from thirty to calm his nerves.

 

“Besides,” Niall kept saying “Louis doesn’t care how you dress. You’re, like, his favorite person ever.”

 

Harry was at twenty three.

 

“I was on the phone with him like two days ago,” Niall continued, “and I was keeping a tally of how many times he mentioned your name.”

 

Harry was at fifteen.

 

“‘M not actually at liberty to tell anyone the number,” Niall said, ignoring Harry’s lack of a response, “because he made me swear on Derby County not to say.”

 

Harry was at seven.

 

“But it was a really big number.”

 

Harry kept counting down.  _ Four, three, two one. _ He looked down at Niall. “Really?”

 

“Hey,” Niall said, sticking the spoon in his mouth, “You’re alive!”

 

Harry rolled his eyes and picked up a plain white shirt. “Should I wear this?”

 

“Louis would like it.”

 

Harry picked up a patterned shirt in red. “Or this?”

 

“Louis would like it.”

 

“You’re not even looking at it.”

 

Niall’s eyes were glued to his phone, where he was texting someone. “Yeah, but I still know.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. He dropped the shirts to see if Niall would pay attention. “Maybe this?”

 

“Louis would like it.”

 

“Niall, I’m not even holding anything!”

 

“You’re right, sorry, Louis would  _ love _ that.”

 

“Niall!” Harry plonked down to sit next to him on the rug. “We don’t have much time and I’d really appreciate your help here.”

 

“You don’t need help, Harry,” Niall said. “Last week I said no to everything you picked up and you totally ignored me and just picked your own outfit, and we both know something similar’s gonna happen here.”

 

Harry dropped down dramatically over Niall’s back. “Ni- _ alllllllll _ …”

 

Niall ignored him and kept texting.

 

“Niaaaalllllll…”

 

Niall silently received a text.

 

“ _ Niaaaaallllllllllllll _ …”

 

Niall responded to the text without acknowledging Harry in the slightest.

 

Harry sighed slowly before snatching Niall’s phone.

 

“Who are you texting, anyway?” He asked over Niall’s yell.

 

He had been texting Zayn.

 

“You really shouldn’t read that,” Niall was saying, trying to reach around Harry to grab the phone back.

 

Harry, meanwhile, was attempting to read texts while moving the screen around wildly, but he was only able to get words here and there.

 

“Harry!” Niall was protesting.

 

_ louis flippin out _ , Harry saw from Zayn.

 

“Zayn’s with Lou?” Harry asked, snapping his head back to Niall and probably whacking him with his hair.

 

Niall frowned grumpily at him. It was probably supposed to be threatening, but Niall couldn’t do threatening much in the same way kittens can’t pull off threatening.

 

“That is a private conversation,” Niall said, still grabbing wildly for the phone.

 

Harry tried to read more, barely succeeding before turning back towards Niall. “So Louis’ as nervous as I am?”

 

“He probably didn’t try to steal Zayn’s phone and intrude on his personal messages,” Niall said contritely.

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Only because Zayn’s got an iron grip on his phone, probably.”

 

Niall conceded. “Louis would probably tackle anyone if they weren’t paying enough attention to him.”

 

“Louis tackles me, and I always pay attention to him,” Harry added quickly.

 

Niall rolled his eyes and muttered something about  _ the pair of them _ …

 

Harry frowned exaggeratedly at him and Niall took advantage of his stillness to steal the phone back.

 

“Hey!” Harry exclaimed.

 

“Look at this,” Niall said, “You’ve gone and sent a bunch of random letters to Zayn now!”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “He probably won’t even notice it’s any different from your usual texting.”

 

“Um, excuse you,” Niall said, “I am a very articulate person.”

 

Harry laughed at that, collapsing back onto his friend.

 

They lay there silently for a while, Harry watching the fan spin slowly as Niall continued to text Zayn.

 

“Niall,” Harry said, “What time is it?”

 

“Uh, 6:15,” Niall responded.

 

“Shit!” Harry sprung up. “He’ll be here in 15 minutes! What do I even wear?”

 

Niall huffed. “Wear your skinniest jeans and a nice shirt with those dark boots you like.”

 

“Alright, okay,” HArry said, searching for his jeans in the pile of clothes.

 

“Why are you even so nervous?” Niall asked. “You two go out every week.”

 

“Yeah,” Harry said, “But before, I always asked him, so I knew it wasn’t a date.”

 

Niall arched a brow. “What if he thought they were dates?”

 

“They weren’t,” Harry shook his head sadly, “because last week he wouldn’t kiss me.”

 

“Well, to be perfectly fair,” Niall said, “you didn’t kiss him either.”

 

Harry groaned. “It was the perfect moment to do it, too.”

 

Niall grabbed his elbow, the highest part of Harry he could reach from his position sitting on the floor. “Harry, it’ll all work out, okay?”

 

“How do you  _ know _ ?” Harry asked.

 

Niall shrugged, looking up into Harry’s eyes seriously. “I just do, Harry.”

 

Harry bit his lip.

 

Niall smiled up at him reassuringly, and Harry was powerless to smile back.

 

“Alright, thanks, Ni.”

 

“No problem, Styles.”

 

“But what do I  _ wear _ ?”

 

“Oh my fucking god, Harry, we have been over this so many times.”

 

“You just said a nice shirt! What does that even mean!”

 

Niall stood up, sighing dramatically. “I have to do everything myself,” he teased.

 

Harry stuck his tongue out at Niall.

 

Niall stuck out his own tongue right back.

 

Harry scrunched his nose at Niall.

 

Niall scrunched his nose right back before turning to grab a shirt from the pile on the floor.

 

“That one?” Harry asked. “Really?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Niall responded. “For sure, H. You can see everything through this fabric, it’s like not even wearing a shirt.”

 

“But he said to dress nice?” Harry said.

 

Niall rolled his eyes. “Black sheer shirts  _ are _ nice, Harry.”

 

Harry bit his lip again. “If you say so.”

 

“I, for your information, am a fashion guru,” Niall said, handing the shirt to Harry.

 

“Fuck off, Horan,” Harry said, tossing a shirt from the floor at Niall’s face. It bounced pitifully off his chest.

 

Niall looked down at it. “You throw like someone who just discovered they have arms.”

 

“Fuck off,” Harry said again, already pulling on the black shirt. He looked up at Niall. “What now?”

 

“Leave a few buttons undone,” Niall said as he turned to look for some shoes.

 

Harry opened some buttons and looked up to see Niall turning around.

 

“Jesus, Harry, when I said a few, I really meant like four, not the entire shirt!”

 

“It’s not the whole shirt!” Harry protested.

 

Niall rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You look good anyway. It doesn’t matter.”

 

Harry glanced at the clock on his bedside table. 6:27.

 

“Shit!” He exclaimed. “I gotta get down there!”

 

Niall rolled his eyes. “Just put on your fucking shoes, Harry, Louis’ late everywhere anyways.”

 

Harry pursed his lips as he pulled on his boots. “He is always late.”

 

Niall nodded energetically. “Now let’s go get your boy!” And he flung open the door and ran down the hall.

 

“Wait!” Harry called as Niall laughed maniacally. Harry chased him down the stairs, tripping and almost falling a few (four) times on his way.

 

“Careful!” Niall called, cackling.

 

Harry whacked him gently when he caught up, then pulled open the front door to wait on the porch. “Bye, Mum!” He called.

 

Niall followed him out. “Oh,” he said. “Tommo’s early.”

 

Harry’s head snapped up and he saw Louis’ car waiting in front of his house. “Oh,” he breathed. “I hope he wasn’t waiting long.”

 

Niall rolled his eyes as Harry ran down the garden path.

 

“Have fun!” He yelled at Harry. “But not too much fun!” He called louder as Harry got to the door. Harry stuck up his middle finger behind him and Niall cackled delightedly.

 

Harry stuck his head into the car first, to the sight of Louis beaming at him. “Hey,” he said, more breathily than he’d perhaps intended.

 

“Hi,” Louis grinned back.

 

Harry climbed into the car, buckling his seatbelt as Louis just watched him quietly. Harry looked up when he was done, catching Louis with the shining smile on his face, the one Harry liked best. The other boys called it Louis’ “Harry smile,” and Harry had to fight down his own beaming grin every time he heard that. As it was, he had enough trouble trying to stay collected with that fond smile he’d only ever seen directed at him and babies brightening up the entire car around them like a particularly soft spotlight.

 

“So where are we going tonight?” Harry asked as Louis began to drive.

 

“Sorry, but that’s going to be a surprise,” Louis responded.

 

“So you’re just whisking me away without giving even a hint of where you’re taking me?” Harry clarified. “Like kidnap?’

 

Louis laughed (and Harry felt disproportionately proud of making that happen). “Exactly like kidnap,” he said, reaching out to ruffle Harry’s hair.

 

Harry laughed, but didn’t pull away from the feeling on Louis’ hand in his hair. “Is it bad that I don’t even mind?”

 

Louis laughed again, but regretfully pulled his hand away. Safe driving, and all that.

 

“We probably have to have a conversation about stranger danger, then, Harold. A serious, grown-up conversation,” he said, straight-faced.

 

Harry unconsciously leaned even closer to him. “Or I could get a bodyguard.”

 

Louis laughed. “But that would be expensive, and you know I don’t like to share.”

 

Harry tried to tamp down the blooming of warmth in his chest, but couldn’t do anything to stop the massive smile that strained his cheeks.

 

They hit a red light, and Louis turned to him as the car stopped. Louis poked Harry’s dimple and Harry grabbed his wrist, holding it near his face. It was so small that Harry’s hand encircled it completely, with his fingers overlapping. “You’re so dainty,” he said.

 

Louis tried to look angry, but he was smiling too much. “And here I was, about to offer to be your own personal bodyguard.”

 

“I would’ve said no, anyway,” Harry teased, knowing full well he could never say no to Louis about anything, ever. “You’re much too small to protect me from any potential kidnappers. And I think kidnapping me once is enough to take you out of the running, anyways.”

 

Louis  _ hmmphed _ grumpily, scrunching his nose. “I’ll have you know, Styles, that I am in fact 5’9.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes fondly, remembering when he had measured Louis two months ago. He’d held Louis’ shoulders against the wall to prevent him from going up on tiptoe (again), and Harry’s hands tingled now as he remembered the warmth so close to Louis’ beating heart. Louis’ hair had fluffed up, making him look especially soft and slightly taller, but even so, he’d barely reached the 5’4 mark. Harry bit his lip at the memory, not noticing the downward flicker of Louis’ blueblue eyes. The light changed to green, flicking new light across Louis’ features. He looked just as ethereal now as he did before, as he always did. Harry could probably look at Louis forever and never be bored or anything less than enthralled by his beauty.

 

Harry realized he was still holding Louis’ wrist, keeping his hand on his own cheek. He also realized that they were very close together.

 

“Green light,” he whispered.

 

“I know,” Louis replied, just as quietly.

 

Harry stared unashamedly into Louis’ eyes, as cheesy as that was. They were beautiful eyes, though, just the right shade of blue, and different every time Harry watched them, but always with the same light shining through, even if it changed colors sometimes.

 

“There’s not anyone else on this street right now, anyways,” Louis whispered. Harry felt like it meant more than just a reason to stay still during a green light.

 

Harry leaned in incrementally, not even meaning to, and shivers erupted on his spine as Louis mirrored him.

 

Suddenly, a shrill honk shattered the moment. Harry looked back, unconsciously releasing Louis’ wrist and straightening. A minivan was behind them, probably an upset soccer mom trying to get her kids home by 7 for an organic vegan meal.

 

Harry giggled. “It’s a green light,” he said again.

 

Louis laughed back, moving the car.

 

Harry kept looking back as they travelled down the street, feeling like he could see the golden feeling they left behind on the painted lines of the road.

 

~~~

 

It was Italian food again. Not the exact same restaurant from last week, but one nearby that seemed to be a step up. Harry looked around as they walked in, taking in the low light and small tables surrounding. Couples were seated at a few of them, and the low sounds of undoubtedly good dates over the tinny music flowing through the speakers in the ceiling only added to the ambiance. Harry swallowed. He had a hard time keeping himself in check around Louis at a dirty McDonalds; how was he supposed to retain any semblance of control here? 

 

Harry’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip. It’s not like this was a date.

 

But it definitely felt like one as Louis smiled at the hostess, Harry hovering close behind the smaller boy.

 

“Reservation for Tomlinson,” Louis said. And. Whoa. A reservation? Harry could practically hear Niall’s Irish voice in his head, sarcastically exclaiming the crushing platonic subtext of a reservation at a nice Italian place.

 

The hostess smiled politely in the way she’d been trained to. “Right this way, Mr. Tomlinson,” she said, picking up two menus and walking briskly away.

 

Harry scrambled after her, noting the number of couples leaning over tables as they went. He lost concentration after a second, though, when Louis’ warm hand came lightly to a rest at the small of his back, guiding him after the hostess. It was as if all of the nerves in Harry’s back had decided it was time to relocate, like metal shavings to a magnet, and started blazing happily under the small palm.

 

“Here you go,” the hostess drew to a stop, putting the menus down and gesturing towards a small table.

 

Louis smiled at her in thanks, pulling a chair out for Harry before going around to his own seat. A dopey smile spread across Harry’s face and stayed there as he slowly sat.

 

Meanwhile, the hostess was making such heart eyes at the pair of them. She smiled, more genuinely than the first one they saw. “Sorry for intruding, but you two are so cute together,” she said happily before turning around to return to her station. Harry blushed, feeling his cheeks go pink and bashful as he glanced up at Louis.

 

Louis was beaming at him again. The brightness made Harry bite back his own grin in response. It was probably improper to be so happy from a stranger mistaking you and your best mate for a couple.

 

“We should keep a tally of how often we hear that,” Louis remarked contemplatively.

 

Harry giggles, cheeks still flushed. “We’d have to start from fifty.”

 

Louis shrugged. “We stopped correcting them around twenty-five.”

 

Harry smiled a little wider at that. “It’d probably be rude to tell them we aren’t. Look how happy we’ve just made her.”

 

“So you’re only going to dinner with me for charity?” Louis said in mock-outrage, smile giving away how angry he really was.

 

Harry grinned back, leaning in. “Why else would I date an elf?”

 

“I am  _ not _ an elf!” Louis exclaimed.

 

“Of course you are,” Harry responded. “You’re three inches tall, you have tiny ears, and you sparkle. Those are key defining characteristics for an elf.”

 

“Three inches tall?” Louis laughed indignantly. “I am nearly two meters, thank you very much!”

 

Harry laughed loudly at that, covering his mouth quickly. “Two meters? I can practically hold you in the palm of my hand! What you call a bed is really just a baby’s sock! That’s how tiny you are.”

 

Louis laughed in surprise. Harry beamed at him. A waitress walked up to their table.

 

“Would you two like anything to drink?”

 

Louis and Harry looked up at the same time with matching polite smiles.

 

“Just water, please,” Harry said slowly (the way he said most things). The waitress nodded before turning to the other boy.

 

“Do you have any Yorkshire tea, love?” Louis asked. Harry raised an eyebrow in amusement at the familiar order, but his expression changed when the familiar pet name was directed at the wrong person. Namely, anyone other than him.

 

The waitress nodded, her cheeks pinkening and her smile growing more genuine. Harry’s smile, meanwhile, became a little more forced. 

 

“Any sugar or milk?” She asked Louis, charmed.

 

“No sugar thanks, he’s sweet enough,” Harry cut in quickly, shaking his head. He wasn’t looking, so he missed the fond grin made of starlight and gold out in full force that Louis was directing across the table at him.

 

“Alright, I’ll be back with your drinks in just a second,” the waitress smiled and walked off.

 

Harry turned back to Louis with a smile on his face, dimples digging into his cheeks. Louis was grinning brilliantly back at him, a beautiful, crinkly-eyed, genuine smile, lips pressed together in a failed attempt to hold back his beam.

 

“What?” Harry asked, giggling a little.

 

Louis shrugged. “You know my tea order. You’re taking care of me.”

 

Harry blushed, looking down at the table. “‘S only fair,” he said slowly, “what with you taking care of me and all your sisters and Ernie all the rest of the time.”

 

Louis leaned over the table towards him, reaching out to place a tiny hand on Harry’s. Harry looked up, blinking when he saw Louis was so much closer than before, the small smile on his lips and the weird shining in his eyes somehow lighting up the room more than any of the fluorescent lights on the ceiling.

 

~~~

 

After they’d eaten their full and paid, the two boys burst from the restaurant into the already chilly night time, laughing and light as air, with Louis’ hand on the small of Harry’s back, guiding him somewhere with purpose.

 

They’d been walking for ten minutes, though, and Harry’s pretty sure Louis has no idea where he’s going.

 

“Lou, it’s cold out, let’s just go back and meet the boys for movie night,” Harry asked.

 

“No, hold on, mate, we’re almost there,”Louis responded, a weird sort of nervous energy almost crackling about him.

 

“Where are we going then?” Harry laughed out, grinning down at Louis.

 

Louis smiled secretly and fondly. “It’s got to be a surprise, pumpkin.”

 

Harry giggled at the affectionate term, ducking his head.

 

They walked quietly, mostly, just enjoying each other’s company and - on Harry’s part, at least - admiring the planes of the other’s face in the lamplight when he wasn’t looking, which actually led to a few stumbles for Harry.

 

“You’re like a baby deer,” Louis said, shaking his head amusedly after the most recent trip. “I know for a fact you’ve had these legs more than three days, Harold; why don’t you know how to use them?”

 

Harry laughed at that, causing himself to stumble yet again on a piece of wood that stuck up a bit more than the rest, and nearly whacking his head on a metal railing as he went down.

 

“There he goes again!” Louis laughed as he pulled Harry up, voice morphing into one resembling an announcer at a sporting event. “What a splendid stumble, a pirouette of doom, I’ll give you 7/10 points for nearly braining yourself on the railing!”

 

Harry laughed, letting Louis do most of the work in lifting him.

 

He stood up, finally, leaning heavily on Louis (which wasn’t really needed but he’d take what he could get), still laughing.

 

Harry’s smile faded when he looked up and realized where they were.

 

A wooden dock stretched out in front of them, black metal railings lining the sides, separating them from the water. Streetlamps were placed periodically, lighting up the whole area in their yellow glow. It was empty again, giving the two their privacy. Harry bit his lip and looked at the closest railing. There, in white stencil lettering, were the words “THIS IS A GOOD KISS SPOT.” Harry swallowed, remembering the kiss that almost was, almost exactly a week ago, right here.

 

Harry looked back at Louis. The older boy was smiling invitingly at him, and started slowly walking towards the sign when he got eye contact.

 

“Why are we here?” Harry asked, genuinely confused.

 

Harry felt Louis smile into his shoulder. “This is where your surprise is,” he said casually. Too casually, even. Louis was a fantastic actor and liar, but Harry knew him well enough to tell when he was nervous.

 

But why would Louis be nervous? Had he found out how Harry felt? Did he know that Harry had wanted to kiss him so bad, had almost kissed him, in this spot last week? Harry hoped Louis couldn’t feel the way his pulse had quickened.

 

They drew to a stop and Louis moved to be in front of Harry. Harry chewed his lip, suddenly nervous about what Louis would say. He stared at Louis, brow furrowed, but Louis wasn’t looking back at him. Harry followed his eyes and- oh. Louis’ small fingers were tracing the letters on the small sign. 

 

“Did you know,” Louis started, “That these are all over the city?”

 

Harry’s heart was in his throat. “Oh, really?” His voice sounded a bit strangled, even to himself. Louis was going to find some bay and take him all over the city, kissing him at all of those signs, and Harry would have to hear all about it and this boy and he’d have to go to their wedding and meet their kids and he’d never say a word about all of his pain because it was ultimately more important that Louis’ happy. And how sad was that?

 

Louis was nodding, still looking down and tracing the letters gently. Harry wanted those hands to do that to his skin, trace his tattoos, and that mouth, to-

 

“I went on a scavenger hunt this week, looking for all of them. I’m sure there’s more, but I’ve found a solid four, I think. Five, even, with this one,” Louis continued.

 

Harry’s heart, beating so quickly before, contracted. This was where Louis told him he had found some new boyfriend. This is where Louis tells him how happy the guy makes him. This is where Harry loses a little of the boy he loves.

 

Louis’ cheeks were tinged pink, but he kept going anyway, a slight waver to his voice that probably no one but Harry and his mum would hear. “But I thought-” he cut himself off with a nervous chuckle. His fingers were moving more quickly, now, nervous energy tapping them in bursts. Harry placed his own hand over it, completely covering the fingers and Louis’ nerves seemed a little soothed, for the moment.

 

Louis blew out a little breath. “But I thought this was the best one to start at, because of what I didn’t do before.”

 

And now Harry was confused. What Louis didn’t do before? All he could think about was what he hadn’t done when they were here last -- twice, actually. Harry’s heartbeats picked up again. He’d probably need to be taken to the hospital after whatever was going down here.

 

Louis bit his bottom lip. “I- well, I-” he cut himself off, seemingly considering how to articulate his thoughts.

 

“What is it?” Harry asked softly.

 

Louis looked up, and blue eyes met green, hands still together.

 

“Well, Harry, I love you,” Louis said simply. “Like, I’m in love with you. And I don’t know why I can’t get the words now, because I’ve said it so many times to myself, I’ve rehearsed this so much, my sisters could probably recite some beautiful proclamation to you, Harry, but I just- I’ve wrote songs about you, H, and I’ve honestly never felt like this before-”

 

Harry was reeling. “You love me?” He interrupted softly, cutting off Louis’ rambling. He felt like a helium balloon. A big, white balloon, floating up and up, higher and higher, reaching the far away galaxies and kissing the stars, because that’s what Louis was.

 

“Yes,” Louis whispered honestly, eyes huge and blue and looking like he may cry. “Yeah, I love you so much.”

 

A smile grew across Harry’s face. “Not as much as I love you.”

 

A look of wonderment spread across Louis’ face. “Really?” He breathed.

 

A grin split Harry’s face, dimples digging into his cheeks like craters. “Really, really.”

 

Louis surged up and kissed him.

 

It was better than Harry could have ever imagined. It was bright fireworks and electricity, but it was also softness and a sweet taste that Harry never wanted to leave behind. It was like a whole universe of stars and shining dust had blinked into existence in him, connecting him and Louis, surging in the both of them, soft and warm from a distance, but bright and glittering from up close. Equally beautiful from each distance.

 

They broke apart for breath, foreheads still touching, Louis on his tiptoes and Harry slightly stooped.

 

“I can’t believe this just happened,” Louis whispered, eyelashes fluttering, eyes still shut.

 

“I love you,” Harry whispered back.

 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Louis responded, just as quietly, the whispering giving them their own little bubble of warmth.

 

“I think I’ve some,” Harry whispered.

 

And their lips connected again, and it was just as good as the first time.

 

“That was maybe the best kiss I’ve ever had,” Harry said, giggling into Louis’ mouth.

 

“This  _ is _ a good spot for it,” Louis responded, giggling as well.

 

Harry laughed at that, looking down to find Louis smiling at him, a totally besotted look on his face.

 

“I love you,” Louis said simply.

 

Harry grinned back. “Not as much as I love you,” he teased back.

 

“Hey,” Louis said shortly, swatting at him. “That isn’t even possible, pumpkin. I  _ will _ fight you on this.”

 

Harry laughed again, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist.

 

Louis giggled back, wrapping his own around Harry’s neck. “And here I was, preparing myself for disappointment all week.”

 

Harry kissed him again, giggling into his mouth. He pulled back after a second, beaming when Louis leaned forward, chasing his lips. Louis poked his dimples, smiling just as much as Harry was.

 

“Lou, you've had me since I was 16.”

 

Louis smiled, brighter than the sun was (at some other place in the world).

 

Harry kissed him again.

 

Louis pulled back this time, grinning at Harry. “That's why I did all this tonight,” he explained. “I was trying to recreate last week’s, uh, get together. I was going to kiss you when I saw that, but you wanted to leave and I just…”

 

“Louis…” Harry whispered. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to tell him about how he was going to kiss Louis, how he chickened out. But there were more important things to do, like kissing Louis. Priorities, and all that. He’d tell him later.

 

“Wait,” Louis said. Harry drew back, brow furrowed.

 

“What's wrong? Are you okay?” Harry asked, concerned, heart sinking.

 

“It's not that, it's just that I had a plan for tonight.” Louis said, running his hands over Harry’s chest, tapping his fingers like he was playing the piano. “I set it all up and everything. All those signs, like this one?” He tapped the sign on the railing. “I found them all earlier this week, and I wanted to go to every one and kiss you.”

 

Harry grinned, leaning in and nuzzling his nose. “Well, why can't we?”

 

Louis laughed. “Because I can't kiss you and walk at the same time, love.”

 

“Get on my feet,” Harry giggled. 

 

“What?” Louis laughed back.

 

“Just do it.”

 

Louis stepped up, standing tiptoe on Harry’s feet as the two locked lips again, each giggling into the other's mouth. Harry took one step, laughing as Louis almost fell. Harry wrapped his arms tighter around Louis’ back, laughing. They stumbled a few steps before Louis stepped back.

 

“Babe, we’re not even going to get to two by the time the sun rises,” he laughed. “I love you, but you're really such a nerd.”

 

Harry laughed, loud and unrestrained, the happiest he’d been in such a long time -- maybe even ever.

 

They walked normally, hand in hand, to all the “Good Kissing Spots,” and kissed -- first on the bridge, then on a green roof somewhere with a beautiful view of the city lights, then on a sidewalk, close to the dark water, reflecting the lights and the stars, then on another dock, and in a million places in between.

 

Harry climbed into Louis’ car, watching Louis do the same. He watched the shadows from the yellow light shift on his face, pool under his cheekbones, watched his eyes shine bright blue and his smile dance in the light, and then Harry leaned across the center console and kissed him, smiling into the older boy’s mouth.

 

Harry sighed, happy with where he was. Happy that he got to have this boy, happy that he’d get to have him even more once they got home, happy that Niall had been right; this was a date. He was happy to be in love.

 

Needless to say, they didn’t make it to the lads’ movie night.

 

♥

 

It’s been four years since Harry and Louis’ first kiss, and they’ve just been so,  _ so _ insanely happy ever since. It’s obvious that they’ll get married and have children, and honestly, at 21, Harry’s ready. He’s going to propose to Louis this week. He said that last week, too, but then there was a surprise exam, and they were both tired, and the timing was off. The ring’s just been sitting there, in its box in Harry’s jacket pocket, for months now, and it’s become almost a source of comfort for him. He rubs the ring in his pocket when he’s stressed, the thought of Louis calming him down, the idea of Louis being his husband making him smile, and he’ll slide it onto the tip of his thumb (it wouldn’t go further, due to the fact that Louis has tiny pixie fingers).

 

They’re back at home for a few weeks this summer, and it’s been nice to see their mums and sisters again, but it’s been a week and Harry and Louis were ready for some time alone. They were walking the city like they used to, laughing and talking about nothing and everything, stopping to kiss as often as not.

 

Harry’s rubbing the ring in his pocket as he sees a familiar bridge, turning so their path would take them onto it. He pulls Louis’ hand behind him as they go, and he knows Louis’ seen it for sure because he’s smiling so widely, bright and crinkly-eyed.

 

They walk quietly to the site of their first kiss and Harry pops the delicate ring on and off of his thumb. Louis stops them at a small sign on the railing.

 

THIS IS A GOOD KISS SPOT.

 

Harry smiles down at their toes, budging forward so his scuffed boots just barely touch the toes of Louis’ vans.

 

Louis tilts his head up with his empty hand, smiling. “I love you,” he whispers.

 

Harry smiles back so hard his cheeks pull from the strain of it. “I love you too,” he whispers just as softly. It still gives him butterflies everytime he says, even after thousands of  _ I love you _ s, so much so that he got it tattooed over the spot he feels them.

 

Harry reached out and grabbed Louis hand from his face, now holding both hands. He realized his mistake as Louis’ blue eyes dragged down, following the silver flash on Harry’s thumb. Harry’s eyes widened and he quickly pulled his hand away, but it was too late.

 

“What’s that?” Louis asked.

 

“Oh- it’s, uh,” Harry started slowly, panicking, but he knew he was a shit liar, especially to the love of his life. He sighed, grabbing Louis’ hand again. “I’ve had it for months. I wanted to do this perfectly,” he said. “But this is probably the best spot of any…”

 

Harry sunk to his knee, and Louis’ eyes flew wide as he gasped, hands going to cover his mouth.

 

“Louis William Tomlinson,” Harry started, smiling as he held out the ring with its thin silver band and modest emerald, “I love you more than words can describe, more than you’ll ever know. I know you say I couldn’t possibly love you more than you love me, but I firmly stand in my belief that I’ll always love you most of all. I love you in the way that space is: infinite and bright and sparkly and beautiful no matter how you’re looking at it.  You’re it for me, you’re the one, and I’m gonna marry the fuck out of you and we’re gonna get a nice house together with a big kitchen and twelve kids and as many dogs as you want, babe, because I just love you so much. And this has gotten so off-track, and I’m rambling again, but Louis, will you marry me?”

 

Louis nodded wildly, tears streaming down his face. “Yes,” he laughed, “yes, Harry, oh my God, yes, of course, always!”

 

He was laughing as he sunk down to the ground to kiss Harry, mixing their joyful tears and smiling so much that it wasn’t even really a kiss, more of just them bumping their mouths together.

  
And it was just as good as the first one.

**Author's Note:**

> what an experience
> 
> anyway im on tumblr if ur interested give me a shout


End file.
